


In the Dark

by Schmuzz



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Achievement Hunter Kings, M/M, Mad King Ryan, Master/Servant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 18:19:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2860496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schmuzz/pseuds/Schmuzz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Ryan being King, Michael has to be careful if he wants to see him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> This fic originally appeared during my nsfw myan advent calendar challenge. I may continue writing in this universe.

All ancient buildings had hidden tunnels and backstairs tucked away, perfect for keeping the servants out of sight. Michael knew that well, and he had lived in King Haywood’s castle long enough to know how to sneak past the night guards and bypass locked doors. He could even do it without the light of a torch or candle to guide him.

Which was what he had to do most nights.

The King had finished liberating a territory, after a hard month of battle, there were diamond and gold mines and untapped forests now under his domain; there was to be a formal breakdown of the gains and losses tomorrow at court, but Michael desired the news for himself… Amoung other things the King had to offer.

The kitchen was heavily guarded to stop servants from stealing food, but just outside of it was a hallway cut into the stone of the building, a small passageway between rooms that lead up to the high stories of the castle. Michael treaded up the cracked pathway, letting his hands creep into the slots of old stone, the mortar long rotted away. He couldn’t tell in the darkness if he was alone, but the chill that seeped through his thin garments told him he most likely was.

He came to the end of the narrow path and was met with heavy cloth. Michael waited behind the large portrait of the King’s father until he heard a set of footsteps appear and fade. Then he nudged the canvas until it swung open on surreptitious hinges and crept into the opposing hallway, bare feet silent on the imported woven carpets.

The door to the King’s chamber was hidden amongst a set of phony entrances – a paranoid or ingenuous plot of the supposed Mad King, though if one were to see their own father killed by assassins, Michael would have put up a whole faux castle to fool a traitor from getting him.

The door was locked, as always. And as always, Michael had a key.

When he unlocked the door, Michael knew the man was already in bed. The candles has been extinguished, hiding the mass of the room. A stream of silver broke from the heavy curtain and touched the corner of the closed tapestry hanging over the bed. His Liege demanded total darkness when he slept, and complete light when he was awake; he was a man of binaries: Yes and no, love and hate, mercy and murder.

Michael nudged the curtain aside and knelt onto the mattress. Ryan was under the soft blankets, and only opened his eyes when Michael touched his shoulder.

“Yes?” Michael smiled, for Ryan’s voice was as warm as his bed and as rich as his treasury, and he had missed hearing it out loud. “Come for a report?”

“I’ve come for you.” Ryan raised his eyebrows. “My Liege,” Michael added. That made Ryan sit up in bed and pull the blankets down. Michael eased in, finding Ryan naked, as usual, skin free of any mortal looking wounds.

“Take this off,” Ryan said, pulling at Michael’s tunic. Without thinking it was already over his head and being tossed to the floor. “I’ve tried to give you the silk and cotton you deserve but still you insist –”

“It isn’t what servants wear, my King,” Michael enunciated purposefully. “Besides, they would get stained and torn. And the other servants would rip it from me.”

Ryan’s eyes grew soft and an arm wrapped around Michael’s side. “How have you been during my absence?”

Michael laughed. “I should have been asking you that. My poor King, stuck leading his troops.”

“It was hardly a struggle. It was tedious and mindless work.”

“Oh? So the Mad King bathes in the blood of farmers and steals away their mines and rare trees.”

“I suppose that is what the rumors will say. Is that all you came for then?”

“No, as I said, I came for you.” Ryan stared at Michael’s darkened face for another moment. “I’ve missed you,” he admitted. The silence of the room ate up his words.

Ryan leaned forward and kissed his mouth. “Michael…” His lips were warm and doting, pressed against Michael’s cheek and jaw and neck until his skin began to tingle. Michael’s arms went around Ryan’s waist; he felt the scars on his King’s back, from broadswords and knives, from training mishaps and wars won. His finger trailed up a wide one at the base of his spine, one that had nearly killed him two years ago, and all it did was make Ryan shiver, his cock growing hard from where it was pressed against Michael’s thigh.

“You were gone longer than you promised,” Michael panted out, pulling just slightly away from Ryan’s mouth. “Two months instead of one.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I was worried. The other workers only tolerate me because of your policies on being fair to foreigners. And no word - not to me, at least. I never hear anything. I wouldn’t have known what had happened until they carried you in your coffin –” Ryan’s arms went around Michael’s middle, sitting the younger man on his lap as he laid on his back again.

“It wasn’t anything nearly that serious.”

"But how do I know that? I’m scrubbing floors and my King could be bleeding out or bored or anything in between." Michael sank into Ryan’s grip, unable to hold his tongue now that he was with the other man again.

Ryan shushed him patiently in between another flurry of kisses. “I know. I wish I could take you with me everywhere.” Michael leaned his head down, feeling Ryan’s nose pressed against his collar bone as he kissed his chest. These were the nights that revitalized him; that allowed him to work in a strange land with strange people, most of whom found him just as out of place. “I wish I could marry you. Be seen in public with you at my side.” Michael smiled, squeezing Ryan’s hip.

“My King. My lovely King…” Ryan resumed his heated kisses along Michael’s throat, his cock pressed insistently between Michael’s legs now.

"Oh, I’m lovely now, am I? Thought I was mad."

"You’re always lovely to me," Michael whispered, cheeks growing flushed as Ryan’s mouth reached his chest. “Ah –” He bit his lip, hips thrusting against Ryan’s shaft. “C-can you, please…”

Ryan hummed, “Where it usually is,” Michael had to work to get himself free, however, pulling from the King’s caresses, distracted when Ryan’s hand enclosed around his cock for a minute, stroking him to hardness. Eventually he slipped from the covers, his toes curling as he dropped them on the cold stone floor. There was a jar of sweet smelling oil tucked in the King’s drawers. He slicked up his fingers as he walked back to Ryan’s bed, spreading it down the other’s cock. 

Michael climbed back into bed, Ryan’s hands holding him again as he knelt and lined himself up with Ryan’s shaft. “W-wait,” the other started, “I didn’t -” Michael sank down with a smile, watching the King’s eyes roll up into his head for a moment. 

"Once I heard you had come back, I snuck away from everyone else to make sure I could take you."

"Oh, God…" Michael rose up, slowly riding Ryan’s cock. 

"I needed to feel you again, my Liege." Ryan swore softly, slamming Michael back down; he hadn’t expected that, feeling Ryan fill him up after so long of being by himself. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around the other man’s shoulders as he fucked himself. 

“Shit,”Ryan’s tugged on his curls, sweeping them from his face. “Forgot how good you look on my cock.”

“R-Ryan,”

“So pretty.” Though Michael thought it would be impossible to become more flushed, heat swelled in him; so easily responsive to the King’s praises.

"Hardly that, my King." Michael protested.

"No, no, you are. So gorgeous.“ Michael shook his head, mouth dropping open as Ryan’s cock hit him deep inside. "Where did I find such a sweet boy?"

"Y-You know where," Michael stuttered. "You carried me out of my own village." He could still remember that day; he should have died from fire or the hands of the King’s army, but instead the King himself had scooped him up and taken him home on his horse.

A day full of what should have been tragedy made him look back in wonder every time, and he was only brought back to the present when Ryan kissed his hair, moaning out, “Need you, God, Michael,” Michael bit at Ryan’s collar, grinding hard as he took the last of Ryan’s cock inside of him.

“I’m here,” Michael panted. “Always. Forever.” He glanced up at Ryan’s face, and in the darkness he knew Ryan’s eyes met his.

“ _Fuck_ ,  _Michael_ ,” Ryan groaned, dragging Michael up for a bruising kiss as he finally came, Michael shifting and rolling his hips in Ryan’s lap. He reached down, stripping his cock quickly to drive him over the edge, and he spilled over his hand, come leaking onto the King’s stomach while he whimpered into Ryan’s mouth.

They pulled back, arms still wrapped around each other, Michael’s feet nudging Ryan’s knees. He saw the King’s teeth shine as he smiled. “I love you,” he said, and Michael smiled self consciously, words leaving him as Ryan looked into his eyes. “Hm, perhaps I have been gone for too long.” Michael tilted his head, feeling Ryan’s fingers along his chin. “You always get sheepish when I first get back.” Michael could only nod in agreement. “Cat got your tongue?”  

"…Maybe," Michael murmured. "It’s hard to think, still. The words…" He trailed off, and placed his head on Ryan’s chest. The man’s fingers went into his hair, again. 

"I know."

Michael grabbed the King’s hand and held it, twisting up to stare at him again. ”But I do love you.” 

"I would know that even if you couldn’t speak at all." Michael closed his eyes, laying with Ryan for a minute longer. Too soon, he forced his limbs to move, and he kissed Ryan’s forehead before slipping out of the covers.

"I’ll see you tomorrow," he muttered tiredly, searching for his tunic. He paused when Ryan touched his arm. 

“I only just saw you again,” Michael looked up, into the blackness where the King still lied. 

Michael put the tunic over his head. “I know,” He kissed the King’s hand. “But we’re are both busy people with conflicting spheres. I will be working in the gardens tomorrow,” Michael supplied. “I’ll try to stay near the lily pond you like so much.”

“Perhaps I’d get to see you in proper lighting, then,” the other supposed. “Be safe, going back.” The King ran a hand through his curls one last time, cupping the crown of his head for a second before pulling back into his grand bed.

"I always am."  


End file.
